Gaster
by Da Police
Summary: Explore the tragic backstory of W.D Gaster as you read about his accomplishments, success, and downfall.


Gaster

Something that always horrified me since my youth was the idea that I could simply have not been born in the first place, yet everyone else could just live their life in the same manner they always did. The fact that someone named Wing Ding Gaster could have existed would never even cross their minds. I suppose this is what inspired me to do so well in school and pursue my career in science. I wanted to make inventions that would help others, and make me memorable. I wanted the world to know my name.

The happiest moment in my life was when King Dreemurr appointed me to be the royal scientist. Every accomplishment I made lead up to that single moment, with all of the work I did paying off. Every sleepless night in university, every test score I received, every moment I spent studying, all paying off in this one fleeting moment. I vividly remember how concerned he looked when I was wringing my hands in anxiousness all the while bouncing up and down in excitement. Hah, Memories...

For a while after getting myself situated in the laboratory, I wasn't sure what to do. I would sit down regularly, trying to think of ideas. I did this for almost a year until suddenly, there was a power outage in the lab. The various fossil fuels and minerals underground were beginning to deplete, and an energy crisis was on the rise. Everyone was worried about this. I opened up the windows to let some of the light from the magma enter the room, when the idea occurred to me; The Core. The Core would be a large structure set up in the vast magma ocean dedicated to extracting the geothermal energy and using it to power the various homes and businesses of our society. It could consistently supply electricity to all inhabitants for over centuries.

A flow of ideas entered my head. I started quickly scribbling them on a notepad, and made ruft drafts for blue prints. I spent a good 6 hours sketching and writing possibilities, until I landed on one that I felt would work. I sent the blueprints and notes I made to the King, and I saw his face light up with joy after looking at them. "Gaster, this is brilliant!" He shouted happily. He began to supply me with very heavy amounts of funding. He had a lot of faith in the project.

Not long after this, the king hired an assistant for me. He was a polite man with a love for puns, named Sans. At first, his main roles were translating my sign language to others, ( I was born with a disorder that left me unable to speak, ) and fetching me pens. However, something Sans was VERY good at was learning things quickly. He began getting a greater interest in physics, and even asked if he could borrow my books. He was also much better rested than I was, and frequently spotted mistakes in the math I wrote when I was tired.

Eventually, the various construction workers and engineers finished the core. They wanted me to have the honour of turning it on. Many inhabitants were viewing the currently unfinished core from any cliffside that allowed them to see it. I flipped the switch, and I heard the machine roar to life as all of the lights began glowing. Every monster viewing cheered at once. The core was finished. The energy crisis was finally over. The king was ecstatic, and gave Sans and me a very heavy pay raise. Civilians loved me. They respected me. For the first time in my life, I did something I felt I would be remembered for. I was happy, to say the least.

Things went pretty slowly for the next few years. I didn't make much progress in inventions or discoveries. Sans said he was going to have to stop being my assistant for a while, since he wanted to go to university and get a better understanding on physics. It felt like I was right back at square one. I made some minor improvements to the core's efficiency, and had elevators installed due to complaints about it being too difficult to navigate. However, I did start conceptualizing one thing; a time machine. I seriously doubted time travel was even possible at the time, so it was more of a day dream than anything. However, it began to look more and more plausible the more I refined the ideas and wrote on. For years I made theories, created mathematical formulas, and did examinations in order to see if the time machine was possible. It took years of work to do. Sometimes I would get frustrated, and take a break as I worked on something else. Other times I would lose faith in the project entirely, only to make a breakthrough later and come back to it. But I kept on staying determined and trying my hardest.

Things got easier after Sans finished university and got his degree. He was a great help to me over the course of this project's creation. We made great bounds in science together. With him around, nothing felt impossible. Our first step in time travel that wasn't just a drawing was a machine that could be used to view an alternate timeline, but only a few minutes in. You can look in the monitor as if it were a window to an alternate reality. The first one I viewed was simply a reflection, at first. But then I took a closer look. In the monitor, I was taking notes with a pen instead of a pencil. "Sans, get over here! Look, It worked!"

I kept on viewing different timelines, refining the machine, and taking notes. I even upgraded the machine to foresee hours in a different timeline, instead of just a few minutes. However, eventually the timelines got... Disturbing. The first case of me being scared by what I saw was when I saw footage of myself in the same room, except Sans was there with me. I then saw myself begin fighting him as soon as he walked in. By fight, I don't just mean arguing. I mean we were physically throwing punches at eachother. I turned the machine off in the middle of it. Sans wasn't in the room with me while I was watching this footage, luckily. However, I don't know why I would ever want to attack Sans. He was a close friend of mine, and helped me through many projects and situations. But apparently one of my alternate selves must've had a reason for it. I never DID find an answer to this, so the dimension must've had a very different course of actions than ours. I was a nervous after viewing it, but kept viewing more and more timelines. Many of them were small changes like I mentioned at first, but occasionally I would see another incredibly unnerving one. They concerned me greatly.

I got so wrapped up in these timelines that I got severely paranoid, and trusted no one. I doubted everyone's intentions. Don't drink the beverages at this celebration, someone laced it with poison. Someone put a tracking device in my labcoat, I need to burn it. The years during this time were just a chaotic haze of fear and sleepless nights. I intentionally distanced myself from anyone, because I didn't want to risk anything. Asgore went to me several times in concern for my health, but I didn't trust him. He could've been trying to lure me into some sort of setup. I began keeping a knife with me in my coat at all times. Now, please, don't get me wrong. I didn't stop trusting people because I wanted to. I still viewed these people as friends. It's not that I disliked them, it's just that many small "what-ifs" entered my head and made me horrified. If I did trust people, I would risk the possibility getting murdered. Even if it was a small possibility, it was still there. "Gaster, you okay? You've been jumpy lately." Sans asked me. I still had Sans as an assistant, right up until the end. I always kept my distance from him, just incase he might ambush me. "Yeah, you're right. I suppose I need more sleep." I conveyed to him with sign language. This was a lie. The real reason I jumped backward when he picked up a pencil was because I assumed he was going to stab me with it before realizing he was just correcting a math mistake. I was a nervous mess, and I knew it. Yet I just couldn't stop.

Even with the lack of sleep, I laboured on the time machine. After many months of work, we managed to finally make a prototype time machine. It was a container about the size of an oven that you put an object into, and essentially teleport it into the future. However, it could ONLY send things in the future. I experimented with it by placing in a clock set to ring in two minutes. I put it in the time machine, and set it to send the object a little less than 2 minutes in the future. Suddenly, the machine produced a blinding flash of light, with the clock gone. After waiting the alotted time, the machine produced a flash of light and the clock showed back up. I picked it up, and looked at it. It still had 2 minutes left before ringing. It had travelled through the future "Wait, are you saying it worked? Heh... Good to see that." Sans said, as he looked at the clock.

Sans asked if he could bring the clock home, which I politely declined. He could've used it to make a bomb, for all I knew. Now, all of this may sound irrational to you, but trust me. If you saw what I saw, you would have done the exact same things. I saw the closest of friends do some of the most despicable acts I have ever seen. Even when you know anything can happen in an alternate timeline, it really gets to you to see that happen. Anyway, I closely examined the clock to see if any changes happened to it after being sent to the future. It had very, very thin traces of a strange substance that shouldn't even exist, according to the laws of physics. It gave off negative photons. It generated an... Anti-glow. Anti-glow is the best way I could describe it. It literally removed all light in a certain radius. I showed it to Sans when he arrived to the labs the next day. "Sans, a strange substance attached itself to the clock. Let me show you. Negative photon readings... This experiment is looking very interesting, wouldn't you agree?"

Finally, after months of hard work and toil, a full fledged time machine was being built. One that could send living beings to both the past and future. However, my own mental state was beginning to crumble. I firmly held a belief that there is no bound science should not reach, and yet I felt as if I was unleashing something horrible by making this machine. I kept on pushing on. Sans was always there to support me. I was about to turn on the prototype. It was the memtno of trhtu. Thi s e exeprimt wil do godo tinhgs ti wlil hlep right it wlil hpel poeple lvoe me i am loved i do godo tihngs

good

wont it

no no

no no no

sans will manipulate

dont trust him

dont trust motives

bad bad bad

charge at him

clutching knife

trip and fell

falling falling falling

falling forever

no time no time no time

existence crumbling

timeline shattering

stupid stupid gaster stupid bad idiot bonehead gaster stupid bad bad useless gaster bad

T҉͉̭͕̘ͅi͎͍̱͖̓ͤͥ̓̃m̜̱͍̭̾e̯͎͕ͯ͐͊ͧ ̷̣̜̠̮̰̿ͬ̋́̋i̟̯̬̝͉͒ͬͤͣ̎s̞̹͓͇͊͋͛͌̉̃ ͍̰̦͍͖͞n̸̦̖̭̊̀̔́͌͒ơ̦̤͍͊ͨ̃̔͌ͣt͈̝̂͊̉ͭ̏ͨ ̱̦̳̘͐ͣ̽͝ą̗̥̟̪͇ͭ ̨̟̺ͮ̅ͦ̏̉͂s̲̻̞̳̖̭̺͐͂̆͒̓̓t̥̞ͯ̓̄̔͘ȓ̢̠̝͎̝̘̑̑̏̇a͗ͨ̊̍ͭͬ͘ì̱̞̱̭g͆̽̂ͬ̃̓͟h̷͕̗̠̲͕̤̯͑t̺̤̮̻̤ͧ̇́ ̦̜͕͈̤͇͇̓͒ͫ́ͯ̊̅l̡͍͒̆̓ͦͥi̧̦͈̯̒̄̐ͮ̓́̐n̷̰̹̩͈͓ͮ̍ͭ̐͊̄̒ë̠̭ͣ̋̆̑̾ͦ.̙̜̤̙́ͯ͝ ͍̙Iͅtͨ́̚ ͕͙͗̇ͩ̈́͛͑̎i̘̍̑̅ͨ̄̈́̓s͊̀ ̔̑̏́͌̆ͅa̺͍̬ͤ̉ͨͫ̔ͮ̎̕ ͉̺͌ͨ͐͊̍ͣb̨̞̔e̺͖̭̳̟̓͐͋ͯ̂͆͑ǎ̞͈̦̥̺̊͒u͉̯̗͕̘͛͗͋ͥ͝t̛͈̏ͯ̇̈̇̆ĩ͔͙̫̦͍͈̈́̂̓ͫ͂̃f̑ͫ̅̀ṷ̵ͬ̆ͮḽ̻͊̒ͨͤ ̵̫̣͉̓ͯ̓̊̾w̛ͪ̒ͥ̍ä̗̘́̄̿͌ͤͅv̪̓̃ͣ́e̳̥͕̤̣̭ͫ̉͂ͅļ̮̾ͯ̐̇e͔̼͍̣͎̠͒̈̈́͑n̫̩͈̖g̙̼̭͓͚̼̻͗̑͗ͥt̡̬͍̺̲̪͕̑͆̑ͬͧͅh̯͕͎̰̩ͨ̍̎͒ͭͬ,̛̺̙̜͉̗̏͋ͬͅ ͚̝̈́ͣͯ̀f͊ͧͯͯ̀҉̩ḻ̲͚̪̺̽̓ư͈̰̬ͨ̍c͓̋t͉̞͖̭̖̺̦͞u̵ͫ̀ͯ͒̂a͢t̥̩ͥͬ̄ͤͤi̸ͨͮ̓ͨ͌̚ṇ̓̂ͨg͇̼̈́ͩͩ̎́̎ ̧͚̼̯̻̲͗̈́͑͒ͅḯ̩̹͔̲̬̤̯͆͐̔n̯̮̙̝͑͑͠ ̸̪̰͔̦͕͖̠̄ͫͯ̑͂̄̏t̗͐̓ͭ̌ͤh̵͖̟ͪe͖͕̘̪̓͒́ ̳̘͔̻̕4̢͈ͣt̠̙͒ͪͅh̢̳͖̰̭͎̽ͫͤ̏ ͋͑̊́ͮͮ͏̹̗̥̺͎̲d͎̤͛͊͘i̡̦͖͖͉̮̺̒̀̍ͥͥͯm̝̯͓̠̭̼̯̓̈́͌e̛̟̤͕̖̺̖ͫ̓̿n̪͎ș̺̥̈̊ͦ̏͆ͧĭ̷̝̟̖̮̳̅͂̋̔̿o̝̜̱̿̂͋ͥͫͪ̋͞n͚͓͖̟̱̊ͫ ͇̳̺ͣǎ̟̬͓͔̝͇͍ͩ̅ͨs͙̳̘̦͔͈ͅ ̺͔̞̲ͧ̈́͐ͣī̫̞͈̖̲̩̱̍̅ͪͬt̫͇̪͎̤̖͐̎ͯ̐͑̈́ ͈̲̜͌̈́̓ͅw͕̣̘̯̦͍͇̿̀ë͉͔̻̼̯́́̾ͭͅa̙̤ṽ̺̫̲̭̺ͫͪȇ̡͔͓̌͋̓̑s͉̝ͭͦͪ́̈́ ̛͍̂͑ͫͩa̫̹͙͈̜͠n͓̓̔͡dͦ̑̿͊҉͍̪͖̘͙͔ ̴̻̺̗̲̦̉̎͂ḑ͎͎̀͐̂͛ͧ͗a̧̰̤̥̟͚̙͕̽ͣ͆ͯn̡̮ͣ̂̂ͭ̾̋̊c͔̦̤̽̌ͤ͋̕e͓̺͕̭͆͝s̴̼̣͇͋̈́ͯͣ̓̈͗ ̙͚͕̃̊͐̅͊ͅt̮h̢͂r̷̲ͨͩ̀ͮͩ͑o̪̔ú̶̟g̳h͕̫ͫ͝ ͔̬̘̤͎͖̦̆̒͌̔͊́ș̱̪̃͌̋͋̌͡p̵̼̺̪͖͓̟ͬ̒ͮ͌̽̐͋a͔̗̮͉̠͊͗̍ͮͮ͞c̫̹̰̫̟͔͇̉̓͗͊͐e͖͚̤ͩ̔̚.


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